First Date
by tofindabetterroad
Summary: The Lizzie Bennet Diaries. For his first date with Lizzie, Darcy had prepared for absolutely everything. The one thing he wasn't ready for was Lizzie.
1. Chapter 1

Finally, _finally_ he was going on his first date with Lizzie Bennet, and he had planned absolutely everything. He was completely prepared. Gigi had basically dressed him, rejecting his choices with groans of "Seriously?" and "You are hopeless." He wore a deep maroon dress shirt with a grey, almost silver tie, and a black sport coat. He thought it was a little flashy, but Fitz had agreed with Gigi, and he was outvoted. He'd spent all day getting ready, and all week obsessing to Gigi and Fitz. He'd reserved them a table at one of the nicest Italian restaurants in town, and he'd looked up nearby cafés in case they wanted to go somewhere after. Just in case, he'd informed his house staff that they might be coming back to his house (Not like _that_, of course. This was only the first date.) so that they could prepare the house in time. "There is such a thing as being too prepared, Will. Damn," said Gigi. Yes, he was completely prepared.

The one thing he'd overlooked, of course, was the part of the date that mattered most.

* * *

As they walked to his car, his heartbeat started to speed up. Soon he'd be dropping her off at home, and they'd have to do the end-of-the-first-date-goodnight dance. Why hadn't he planned for this? He'd planned for everything-literally, right down to how far in advance he should brush his teeth-except for this. Should he kiss her?

_Of course you should!_ Said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Fitz. They'd had a wonderful time, he was sure of it. She complimented his restaurant choice twice, she laughed when he wasn't being funny, and she smiled at him like she didn't have to try. She kept saying his name, which was a good sign. And she'd started calling him 'Will' which he really, _really _liked. Best of all, she touched him. Their knees brushed under the table, she touched his forearm while they talked, and she accepted his hand when he helped her into and out of the car.

He wasn't delusional this time, it had been a successful first date. Then again...she had just started to like him. Given their past, was this moving too fast? There was a time, not so long ago, when this woman hated him. Panic rose in his chest, as it always did in stressful social situations. But this was different. This was more nerve-wracking than anything. This was _Lizzie_.

He realized with a start that Keith, his driver, had spoken to him.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, 'Where to?'" Keith said with a knowing smirk. He'd known Darcy practically his whole life, and he'd never seen a woman have this effect on him. Darcy blushed.

"Oh, uh, what's your address?" He asked, turning toward Lizzie. To his surprise, she looked disappointed.

"_My_ address?" She asked, and she was doing that thing people did that meant she was trying to say something besides what she was actually saying. Darcy almost never understood these subtle social cues, and Lizzie was no exception. Whose else's address would he give Keith? Wait. Unless she meant...

"Well, yes. Unless...we could go to my place," he said, wishing he'd said something besides 'my place', "if...if you wanted to see it. We've just retiled the kitchen." He was rambling, and possibly bragging. Definitely making an ass of himself.

"Oh, I'd love to!" she said enthusiastically, smiling at him. God, her smile was beautiful. And infectious. Perhaps it was just because he'd been awarded so few by her, but her smiles always made him smile in return. His heart was racing. They were going to his house. Right. He had planned for this. Everything would be fine.

* * *

Everything was not fine. On the off-chance that she came home with him, he was supposed to give her a tour of the house, ending in the garden next to the Koi pond. Gigi said it was romantic, and they could talk and he could give her his jacket and maybe, if the timing was right, try to kiss her. But then she suggested that they sit on the couch and his brain froze up. The _couch_? What did that mean? Should he sit right next to her, or leave some room? Should he put his arm around her? It seemed like after all these months of knowing her, she shouldn't still make him this nervous. When he was around Lizzie, he felt like a teenage boy again, usually in a bad way.

He settled on sitting a few inches away from her, unconsciously leaning toward her. She immediately kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her body, and he tried to act as comfortable as her. He noticed he was absent-mindedly playing with the tassels of a grey throw, which probably made him look nervous. He folded his hands together and placed them in his lap. _That's casual, isn't it?_

They'd been silent for a while, maybe a little too long. He should probably say something. Right as he took a breath to speak-

"I'm really glad you took me out tonight," said Lizzie, and she smiled and reached for his hands. She unfolded his fingers and intertwined them with her own. He kept his eyes on their hands as she did this, and when he looked up he found her face distractingly close to his.

"So am I," he said, his voice doing little to conceal his nerves. Should he say something else? Should he change the subject? All the conversation topics he'd rehearsed with Fitz seemed to fly out of his head, and all he could think of was her. She was still looking at him intently, and she'd moved even closer. His hand was sweaty. "I've waited a long time," he continued, his voice noticeably lower. "I...I hope…" He hoped what? He had no idea where he was going with this sentence and he was burning up under her gaze and-

Suddenly, before he could understand what was happening, her lips were on his. He was too shocked to move, let alone kiss her back, which is probably why she pulled back and looked him questioningly in the eyes. His brain finally caught up to him then-Lizzie Bennet was _kissing_ him. And she'd stopped because he was sitting there like a dead fish (or a robot). He was sure he looked quite stupid, with his flushed cheeks and wide eyes, but he knew he had to do something, so he leaned in.

* * *

The second kiss was much better than the first, and much less awkward. Her lips were soft, yet demanding, and occasionally he would just barely feel her tongue. He was delighted that she seemed as eager as he felt.

Maybe _more_ eager, he thought, as she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her to him, and her tongue massaged his. He was quickly losing control, and his thoughts were becoming less and less coherent. She moved her hands into his hair, running her fingers through it and pulling his head down to hers. She took his lower lip between her teeth, dragged her nails along his scalp down to his neck, and let out a little sighing moan, all at once.

All reasonable thoughts and judgements exited his head, and he pulled her impossibly close, attacking her mouth with his. They were both moaning, panting, running each others hands over necks, shoulders, hair, pulling each other closer but not _nearly_ close enough. He thought he might explode when she climbed on top of him, straddling him and facing the back of the couch. She sat directly on top of his hard-on- which he was momentarily embarrassed about, but couldn't quite manage to care-making him even less composed than he already was. Her lips were on his neck, kissing, sucking,_ biting_, and he was trying desperately not to buck his hips up against her. He couldn't help the moan that escaped him as she nibbled on his earlobe, her hot breath on his neck. He had never felt so happy, so euphoric, or so excited in his entire life. She was in his arms, pressed up against him, and she felt so soft, so perfect. This was happening so _fast_. Looking back, he would never understand how he'd had the self-control to croak out "Wait".

She pulled back, clearly confused. God, she was beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a mess, and her lipstick badly smudged.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I-I didn't want this." He managed, and her expression turned to mortified.

"Oh, okay. I-I just-I thought-"

"No, I didn't mean-" Once again, he'd said the wrong thing. In his defense, she was still pressing against his obvious arousal and he couldn't think very straight.

"I wasn't planning on doing this on the first date. I wanted to be respectful of you. I-I'm sorry if I got carried away." He avoided her gaze.

"_You _got carried away?" she asked, incredulous. She laughed, then quickly became serious. She put her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her.

"Well, plans can change. Do you want it now?" She asked, and-Oh, _God-ground_ into him, hard.

"Yes," He choked out.

"Do you want _me_?"

"Y-yes," he said, barely caring that his voice cracked because she was doing it again, moving back and forth and pressing her hips down on his.

She leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Then take me, Will."

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

At that point any restraint he'd had vanished, and she was on her back, and he was touching, kissing, licking every part of her he could. He fumbled trying to unzip her dress without taking his lips off hers. Her teal, silky dress that hugged her body perfectly and was low-cut enough to expose her collar bones and just a hint of the soft swell of her breasts. Upon first seeing her in this dress, he was rendered speechless. Now he wanted nothing more than to get it off of her, and he was losing his patience in not ripping it. She helped him, wriggling and pulling until the dress was off and discarded to the ground.

She immediately reached for him, but he took her wrists in his hands gently, wanting a moment to just look at her. He gazed at her body, drank in her ivory skin, her thin soft figure. Her bra and panties didn't match perfectly, but they were both black with lace. He wondered if this had been her plan all along, for them to end up like this tonight. Her bra was seemingly more for decoration than for function, because it was barely containing her breasts. He certainly wasn't complaining. He had never seen anything so sexy, and he had never felt so turned on.

When his eyes reached hers, he saw lust, happiness, and just a hint of impatience. Without hesitating, she reached behind and unhooked her bra, slipping it off and throwing it onto her dress in one fluid motion. He stared, transfixed as her chest rose and fell. She was _perfect_. She was smirking at him, and he realized that he was ogling her with his mouth hanging open like a slack-jawed idiot. Tentatively, searching her eyes for permission, he ran his hands along her stomach up to her breasts. She shivered, and his erection became almost painful. He went back to ravishing her neck, delighting in the sounds emitting from her, as he massaged her with his hands.

Experimentally, he took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a light squeeze. He watched her eyes and her mouth fall open, as she let out a whimper. This spurred him on, and he did it again, desperate to get her to make that noise again. When he moved his lips down to her neck she froze and inhaled sharply. He looked at her, hoping he hadn't done something wrong. Her head leaning back on the armrest and her eyes were closed. She looked like she was waiting, anticipating something. Did she want him to-? _ Oh_. If it meant her making those noises again, he was happy to comply. He slowly dragged his lips along her skin, first down between her breasts, then up, exploring her lazily.

When his lips finally reached her exposed nipple, she whimpered again, and he felt like he was inside one of his many, many dreams about her, because this couldn't be real. Nothing could possibly feel this good. He hesitated a moment, then lightly nibbled on her nipple and she whined in pleasure. With each noise she made he became more confident, and more urgent. He wasn't sure how much longer he would last.

Thankfully he didn't have the chance to find out, as she impatiently pushed on his shoulders until he was lying on his back, sitting up slightly against the armrest. She was straddling him again, and reaching between him to undo his belt buckle. He tried to help her undress him, but they were both so impatient and eager that it was a clumsy affair. He hazily thought that he was extremely grateful that he'd sent his staff home tonight.

Finally, _finally_, she wrapped her fingers around him and began to stroke him. Darcy literally saw lights flashing behind his eyes. Oh, _oh_, this is going to end very soon, he thought. The significance of that thought registered and his eyes flew open.

"S-Stop," he barely managed to get out, as he weakly swatted her hand away.

"Too much?" She asked, and although her voice was guilty, her smirk said otherwise. He nodded, shakily exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Has it been a while?" She asked. He could tell she was going for teasing, but the genuine curiosity came through in her voice.

Oh no, they were going to have this talk.

"It's been...I mean, I haven't-I haven't really…" He knew his face was probably painfully red at this point, and he couldn't look her in the eye.

"Darcy," she said, and he noticed that she still wasn't totally converted to calling him 'Will', "Are you a virgin?" He cringed. He hated that word.

"No. I'm just not very...It's just-Do we have to talk about this right now?" he asked a little desperately. She was still sitting astride him, and his exposed erection was between them. Did they really need to have this discussion?

But she wouldn't be Lizzie Bennet if she didn't make this difficult. "I think maybe we do," she stated, leaning back and sitting on his thighs. He sighed, shifting so that the blanket was at least covering him.

"Fine," he began,_ lets get this over with_. "Well, I've only really been with one woman. Dated, that is. It was my junior year of college, and her name was Emily. She lived down the hall from Bing and I. It wasn't at all serious. I liked her and respected her, but I didn't love her. But she made me happy. She made me feel...confident. She said she wanted to wait, and I respected her wishes. As it turns out, she was waiting for the rugby player who lived across the hall."

"That's awful," Lizzie said, looking down and playing with his fingers. He wondered if maybe she felt guilty for starting this, but he continued.

"Anyway, when I found out I was devastated. Bing and Caroline took me out and I got drunk. Very, very drunk. So...I slept with a girl from Caroline's sorority. It was my first time and I barely even remember it. I was nauseous and upset, and she cared even less about me than I did about her. The next morning she called me Bill." He winced at the memory.

Lizzie was looking at him like he was made of glass. "Will, I'm so, so sorry."

He nodded. "After that, let's say I had some trust issues. I never dated again, or did much else to do with women."

"So...after the girl from the sorority you never had sex again?" She asked gently.

"I'm not saying never," It'd been exactly twice after her. Well, once and a half. "I'm just saying...I'm quite inexperienced."

Lizzie looked as though she was pondering something as she absent mindedly drew circles on his abdomen with her finger. "Are you saying...Do you still want to do this with me?" She asked, and she actually looked nervous.

He seriously hoped he hadn't accidentally talked her out of this. He took her hands in his. "No! I mean yes, I do want to. Please, yes." His words came out in a rush, and she was grinning when he finally looked her in the eye. "But if I'm not exactly...I mean, you probably shouldn't expect…" His sentence sort of died and disintegrated into mumbles as he looked at his hands, embarrassed. After a long silence he looked up.

She had a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she said, "You know, I never would have guessed."

His eyebrows creased in confusion. "I never would have guessed that you're inexperienced," she said smiling. "So far you've been _very_impressive."

He felt his face get hot, and he couldn't help but look a little pleased. "Oh?" he said, aiming for confident and missing.

Without warning, she reached down between them, under the blanket, and took him in her hand again. "_Oh_," she purred, giving him a squeeze.

Was she trying to kill him?

* * *

Thank you guys so much for the reviews! It brightens my day like you wouldn't believe. New chapter up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

_Was she trying to kill him?_

* * *

He was about to feebly protest, to tell her that she didn't understand how close he already was to finishing, when she stilled her hand and began kissing his neck. Her lips moved down his chest to his stomach and down, _down_, and once he realized what she was doing it was too late. _ Oh._ By the time her lips finally made contact, he was shaking with anticipation. His breath was coming short and fast, and he was almost unbearably excited.

If there's one thing Lizzie Bennet isn't, it's shy. She took almost all of him in her mouth almost immediately, using her hands to make up for what she couldn't fit. He hissed, grasping the blanket beneath him and trying to remain calm. This felt better than anything he'd ever done with a woman (or, you know, alone). He was going to come embarrassingly fast.

He had trouble caring too much when she pulled her head up and back down, sliding and pressing her tongue along the ridge on the underside of his shaft. She spent extra time on the spot right beneath the head that drove him insane. How did she know about that? How was she so good at this? He couldn't have cared less, as long as she didn't stop. He was already throbbing, and after only a dozen or so strokes, his eyes shot open.

"Lizzie," he breathed urgently. "Lizzie, I'm going to-" He gently tried to pull her up by her shoulder, but she pushed his hand away, not missing a beat. On the contrary, she started increasing her suction and moving her tongue from side to side, going faster. He lost the ability to speak altogether.

He shouldn't do that in her mouth. He was pretty sure gentlemen didn't do that. Why wasn't she stopping? Did she _want_him to finish in her mouth? The thought sent him over the edge and he came, hard. She stilled briefly, before moving her mouth over him and sucking again. He held his breath and watched her swallow. When she looked at him, the intensity of her gaze left him dizzy.

"You didn't have to do that," he said breathlessly, his dark eyes betraying how much he'd enjoyed it.

"Maybe I wanted to," she said, and he barely let her finish before he grabbed her by the waist and spun her, placing her under him and kissing her fiercely.

She let out a surprised little squeak, and he pulled back to look at her. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"I-Yes. It's just...I didn't think you'd want to kiss me."

"How could I not want to kiss you?" He asked, amazed. To prove his point he leaned forward again, this time sliding his tongue along her lower lip so he could explore her mouth.

"That was incredible, Lizzie," he said against her mouth. "May I...return the favor?"

She looked him in the eyes. "You mean…" She glanced down. His gaze followed hers, and he realized he wasn't sure _what_he'd meant. He just knew he wanted to make her feel the way she'd made him feel.

"I-I just want to make you feel good," he said sheepishly.

"Well...only if you want to," she said, playing with the buttons on his shirt (only the bottom two were still buttoned, and one was torn off. Where was his tie, on the floor? When had_ that_happened?) For the first time that night, she was shy. She looked embarrassed, and he'd never seen anything so cute.

"I do," he said with more confidence than he felt.

* * *

He'd never done this with his mouth before. He made his way between her legs much less gracefully than she'd done, and began to pull off her panties. She helped him, and then he was looking at her, completely bare. Every woman he'd seen before was hairless, but Lizzie had a neat short patch of dark brown hair. He found that he liked this much better.

As he settled himself, she spread her legs. He gulped and just looked at her for a few moments. He was obviously more awkward about this than she'd been, and probably far less talented, but he would do anything to make her feel like he had.

Experimentally, he ran his tongue up her slit, from the bottom to the top. He didn't know what he was expecting, but she tasted salty. That seemed to fit her. He took his middle finger and pressed against her, moving up and down but not entering her.

He glanced up at her face. "Am I-Is this ok?"

She was looking at him with amusement and such adoration that it made his heart skip a beat. "Yes, of course. Just-here." She reached down and took his hand in hers and guided his middle finger upward to the little nub at the top of her slit. She placed it there and pressed, and immediately her head fell back in pleasure.

He decided to stick to this area, and pressed and encircled and pinched until she was writhing in front of him. He had always been told he was a fast learner. He decided to try something. Lowering his mouth to the nub, he sucked it into his mouth, and she gasped. After using his tongue on her for a minute or so, he lightly nipped her with his teeth. She let out a cry so loud that he worried he might've hurt her, but when he pulled away she let out a soft "No!" and he didn't need to be told twice.

His mouth still on her, he sank one finger into her, and he was amazed at how smoothly it went in. God, she was so _wet_. He had done that to her. The thought, along with her reactions to his touch, had him completely hard again in no time.

When he slipped in another finger, he started to notice her shuddering. He felt her tightening a little around his fingers, and he wondered if she was going to come. Perhaps she was close, but she didn't seem to be quite there yet. Well, that was probably a little hopeful for his first time.

"Will," she said, and he looked up.

"Yes?" his voice so low and husky that she didn't hear.

"Oh, Will," she breathed. He realized that she wasn't trying to get his attention. She probably didn't even mean to say his name. She was saying it because _he_ was the one who was making her feel this way, _he_was the man doing this to her. Suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks: after all those months of hoping, wishing, dreaming, he was finally here. He was between her legs, in the most intimate position he could imagine, pleasuring her. Making her sigh and moan and say his name. His heart swelled with euphoria, contentment, and love. It was all too much, and he had to pull back for a moment and rest his cheek on the inside of her thigh.

"Will," she said, this time clearly seeking his attention. He moved so that he was face to face with her.

"I need you. Now."

His heart sped up, if that was even possible, and he was nodding like an idiot. "Alright." he said stupidly.

"Here," she said, leaning over and retrieving something from the outside pocket of her purse, which was next to the couch. He moved so that he was sitting next to her, and pulled her legs into his lap. She ripped the condom rapper open with her teeth, and reached down to roll it on to him. Even that small touch nearly set him over the edge, and he was thankful that she'd already finished him off once that night.

She leaned back and pulled him on top of her, unbuttoning the last buttons on his shirt and tossing it aside. This was really happening. Anticipation and terror rose within him. They were shifting, scooting so that they were in the most optimal position, and he reached down to position his tip into her, when-"Wait."

* * *

She _had_ to be kidding.

"Yes?" he said, trying to keep the strangled desperation out of his voice.

"I sort of...made you tell me about yourself. Before we do this, do you care about my experience?" The fact that she even thought he would care was ridiculous. Unless, was she talking about George Wickham? The thought made him ill.

"Did-Did you and George…?" Her eyes widened and, to his great relief, she laughed.

"_No_, God no. We barely did anything apart from kissing."

He grinned, feeling extremely childish but also smug that he was about to make love to the woman of his dreams, who Wickham had tried and failed to woo into bed.

"Then I don't care."

* * *

Thank everyone so much for the positive feedback! New chapter up soon!


	4. Chapter 4

"Good morning, Lizzie."

"Good morning, Will," she said, looking down shyly at her hand on his chest. They were lying in his bed, still undressed, and she was lying with her head on his shoulder, looking up at him as he lazily stroked her back with his fingertips.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, still not looking him in the eye. This was a completely different girl than the take-charge, passionate woman he'd been with last night. Was she blushing? He pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair and relishing the feel of her bare chest against his.

For a long time they were quiet, and he knew their minds were both drifting to the night before.

Last night had been the best night of his life.

* * *

When he first entered her, it was the greatest relief of his life. After wishing and wanting, pining and yearning for this woman, he was here. He was with her, he was _one with her_, and it was perfect.

He entered her slowly, careful not to hurt or overwhelm her, but she quickly became impatient and thrust her hips up to meet his. From that moment on, it was pure bliss.

He tried to go slowly, to savor it and make it last, but that plan quickly went to hell when she gasped against his neck, "Faster."

She was so unbelievably tight. She felt warm and smooth, and everything that he'd dreamed she'd be. He was worried about not being able to please her, but that clearly wasn't the case. The noises she was making were enough to satisfy him for a lifetime, especially when she would breathe out "Will."

Despite the fact that the couch was by no means small, they were encountering some difficulties. Darcy was too tall to keep his legs stretched out, and when he tried to adjust Lizzie hit her head on the armrest. "Sorry," he murmured, but she just shook her head.

Finally he grabbed her firmly around the waist and sat up. The new position, with his feet on the ground and Lizzie sitting on him facing the back of the couch, was meant to be temporary. He'd planned to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, never pulling out of her, and picking up right where they'd left off on his king bed.

Lizzie clearly had other plans, however. She squeaked in surprise when he shifted position, but her eyes filled with excitement almost immediately. She put one hand on the back of the couch, one hand on Darcy's shoulder, and began to ride him ferociously.

His head fell back, and he was lost in her. He didn't think it could get any better, but this was. With her on top of him, he was able to reach deeper inside her than he thought possible, hitting some spot within that was driving her crazy. At first she set the rhythm, fast and hard, but she was quickly coming apart. He reached for her hips, stilled her, and took over. He started out with slow, deliberate strokes, wrapping his right arm around her and pulling her close. He pulled back so he could look her in the eye, and they stared at each other, marveling in the intensity of the moment.

In her eyes he saw happiness, and hunger for him. Both of their eyes widened, and they knew this wasn't fast enough. He pressed his forehead against the base of her neck, looking between them as he pumped faster and faster. The only sounds in the room were desperate gasps and whimpers, and he wasn't even sure which noises came from who. This was only feeling better and better, and he knew he was getting close.

There was a slight lilt in their steady rhythm as she took his hand and dragged it down to that place that she'd shown him earlier. He didn't need much encouragement, and began pressing and rubbing her urgently with two fingers.

She was shuddering again, and this time he knew for certain what was going to happen. He pressed harder, faster, and thrusted as deep as he could, desperate to send her over the edge. More quickly than he'd expected, she came undone. She shuddered, her head falling forward onto his shoulder and her limbs shaking as she rode out her orgasm. She clenched all around him and _Oh, that was new_. Watching her and feeling her tightness was all he needed, and moments later he was spilling into her, shaking as he came.

"I love you," he breathed into the crook of her neck, then pulled back to look her in the eye. He hadn't expected her to say it back, but he also hadn't expected her to beam at him like she was the happiest girl in the world. When she pressed her lips firmly to his, they were both smiling. He stroked her hips with his fingertips, and moved to lift her from him.

"No," she said against his lips. "Not yet," and he knew the night wasn't over yet.

At some point they'd made their way to the bedroom, and afterward they laid together on his bed, a tangle of sweat and limbs and sheets. Breathing heavily, exhausted in every sense, they'd fallen asleep wordlessly in each other's arms.

* * *

The sunlight was slowly making it's way across the sheets, and he wondered if she'd fallen back to sleep. After a long, comfortable silence, Darcy spoke.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "I'd call that a pretty successful first date." He smiled.

She looked up at him, her shyness seemingly vanished and her eyebrows furrowed together. "What do you mean 'first date'?"

"I mean...well, last night," Obviously, he thought but didn't say.

She was looking half amused and half perplexed. "Last night wasn't our first date."

_What? _"What?" he asked.

She was grinning now, bemused. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, if that wasn't our first date, what was?" He asked defensively.

"I don't know, one of the dozen times we've gotten coffee, or gone out with Fitz and Gigi? What about when you and Bing had dinner with my family? We've spent practically the entire last month together!"

"But...But this was different!" He was amazed. "I picked you up and we had dinner and...and I paid! That's a date. Those other times were just…" He trailed off as Lizzie's smile turned to laughter.

"Is that why you wouldn't kissed me? Is that why you were so nervous when you asked me out to dinner?" She asked between giggles.

"I wasn't-" He began.

"You _were_! 'L-Lizzie w-would you like to-um-er...have dinner with me please?'" she mocked him, lowering her voice and putting on a stern expression.

His cheeks grew red as he lamely defended himself. "That's an exaggeration," he said, though he couldn't help but smile at how much she was enjoying herself. It struck him that only a few months ago, watching her impersonate him was one of the most painful and humiliating things he'd ever experienced. Now she was giggling and burying her face in his chest and he was grinning along with her, blissfully and completely happy.

"So, you're saying we've been on dates before," he said as her laughter began to die down.

"Yes."

"So…" he felt his heart rate pick up. "Does that mean we're dating?" Any traces of laughter left Lizzie's face and her eyes widened.

"Oh, well...I thought so," and just like that she was back to shy.

"Alright," he said, trying to keep the grin from his lips. His nerves set in as he recalled why he'd brought it up in the first place.

"What does that mean, exactly? I-It's just, we haven't really defined...this. Our relationship. Not that we need a label, or anything. But we haven't talked about if, for example, we're exclusive or not," he said, trying to make it seem like this wasn't all that important to him.

"We are," she said, surprising him by answering quickly and decisively, looking him in the eye. When she saw his amazement she must have taken it to mean something else. Her eyes widened and she stuttered, "I-I mean, I'd like us to be. Obviously, if that's not what you want-"

"Why would I want anyone else?" He asked, bewildered. "I'm yours. You already knew that." She beamed, then took one of her hands in his and played with his fingers.

"I'm yours too," she said, barely above a whisper.

"You are?" He asked, disbelieving.

"I am," she spoke more firmly this time. She trailed her fingers up behind his neck and pulled his lips to hers.

He had never felt this way with Lizzie. Practically from the moment he'd met her, his heart had been in overdrive. Whether he was horribly humiliated, heart-stoppingly nervous, or iridescently happy, with Lizzie it was always extremes. Now he felt calm, he felt content. She was warm in his arms, and he didn't need to hold on tight to keep her there. They could lie in bed all day, or go to the park, or relive last night. They had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

It was too soon to say out loud, probably, but he knew he would always be hers. William Darcy didn't believe in grand proclamations, or soul mates. He knew that relationships were complicated, and there would always be the George Wickham's of the world trying to stand in their way. They would probably have bumps along the road, bickers and fights, but that didn't matter. At that moment she was in his arms, and he could see his future with her stretching out before them. He was hers, she was his, in that moment that was all he needed.

_The End._

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I can't thank you all enough for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Who knows, I might write a sequel!


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